


Black Tie, Red Silk

by justacookieofacumberbatch (buffyholic)



Series: Silk [1]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-05-29 11:08:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15071897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buffyholic/pseuds/justacookieofacumberbatch
Summary: Armie attends a benefit, where he can't take his eyes off a performer on the aerial silks.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, I saw [this post](http://ciavttini.tumblr.com/post/175302203093/i-have-sinned) on Tumblr this morning and spent my whole commute to work thinking about it, so I just had to write it down. It's not beta'ed or anything. It was just one of those things that I had to get out of my head and into the world as quickly as possible, know what I mean?

The ballroom was beautiful, soft light from the chandeliers and luxurious red silks hanging from the ceiling. The finest food and drink made their way around the room on silver trays carried by beautiful men and women in crisp, clean uniforms, New York’s richest milling and mingling about in their best duds in benefit of something or other. But Armie only had eyes for one man.

He was swinging from one of the silks, wrapping and weaving himself in it in impressive feats of grace and athleticism. There were other performers, of course, four in total, two men and two women. They all wore black lace covering only the most essential parts, ass cheeks just peeking out under the hem of their bottoms. There was either a nude lining under each garment, or they were purely lace, but Armie was only interested in discovering the truth underneath one.

After a few minutes, the performer must have felt the one pair of eyes intent on him, for he caught Armie’s and held them as he rotated around the silk, legs below him miming a run before he eased himself upside down, wrapped one leg over the silk, and let go. Armie flinched, gripped for just a moment with the fear the performer would fall, but of course, he didn’t. Instead, he smirked at Armie.

Armie raised a brow-- _caught that, did you?_ \--and then the man went back to his performance as if Armie weren’t watching. But Armie knew the performer could feel every caress of his eyes. He just knew it. If by sheer force of will or telepathy, Armie wanted this performer to know how much Armie wanted to touch his pale skin, sleek muscles, silken curls. He put every ounce of his desire, every molecule of his being into his gaze. Who cared for mingling when there was this sight to behold?

The performer jolted and looked down, and Armie’s gaze followed to another performer on the ground holding the end of the silk. Armie’s performer nodded, wrapping the silk around his waist. He spun his way down in a dizzying display, stopping dead only a foot or two above the heads of the people around him. It was a testament to how wrapped up these people were in themselves or their connections that only those nearest to him reacted at all.

It would have been a shame, except that it meant more for Armie. Or, given the look that the performer gave him as he eased himself to the ground, perhaps it meant all for Armie.

He’d almost made it there by the time the performer’s feet touched down, but the performer didn’t wait for him. With a single glance over his shoulder, he strode through the crowd and disappeared through a door beside the bar.

Armie had a harder time making it through the crowd, a comment on his size and lack of grace, he was sure, or perhaps it was simply that people were more likely to make a path for someone who was nearly nude. So, by the time he made it through the door by the bar, the only hint as to where the performer had gone was a door swinging shut.

He didn’t bother knocking before entering.

The performer stood at a dressing table, cracking open the lid of a bottle of water, an oversized sweater covering his once-naked torso, his legs and feet bare.

Armie crowded behind him, confident from the press of his body and the look on his face in the mirror that Armie was welcome there. He slotted his nose behind the performer’s ear. “What’s your name?”

The performer stared at their reflection. “Tim.”

“I’m Ar--”

“I know who you are. I bartend at Daniel.”

Armie skated his fingers up Tim’s spine, pulling the sweater up with them. “Why tend bar when you can do that?”

Tim gasped as the front of the sweater slid up over his groin. _No lining._ “Not much demand for it.”

Armie hummed in recognition, though he didn’t have much interest in talking any more, not now that he knew it was nothing but bare skin underneath that lace. Not now that he knew, judging by Tim’s back, the skin underneath would be smooth and supple. Not now that Tim was arching against him, reaching back to curl his fingers in Armie’s hair, eyes rapt on their reflection.

Armie grabbed the hand in his hair and guided it to the hem of Tim’s sweater. “Hold that in place.”

As Tim did so, Armie enveloped both buttocks in each hand, squeezing, kneading, watching the way Tim’s body rocked with each move. Tim’s mouth fell open. His eyes grew dark with lust. His cock threatened to peek out the top of the lace.

“God. You’re fucking gorgeous.” Armie tucked his thumbs into Tim’s waistband, just above his venusian dimples and slid them inwards until he could part Tim’s cheeks. Then, he pulled them down, his thumbs following the line of Tim’s cleft, pressing between. He didn’t stop until he felt testicle.

Tim’s held fell forward as he rocked into Armie’s touch, but he said, “I can’t do that right now. I only have fifteen minutes.”

Armie sighed. He really would have liked to take Tim apart in this makeshift dressing room in front of this mirror. Reluctantly, he skimmed his thumbs back up Tim’s cleft and pulled the lace up after it.

Though, if they couldn’t now…

He crowded behind Tim, let him feel Armie’s significant arousal, and grabbed Tim’s erection through the lace. “What time do you get off?”

Tim thrust into Armie’s grip--once, twice--before turning his head to press his mouth to Armie’s jaw. “Midnight.”

“Meet me at the valet stand at twelve-o-five.” He tightened his grip on Tim’s cock. “And these had better be on.”

Tim nodded vigorously.

“Think you can manage the rest of the night without getting off first?” He skated his fingertips over the swell of Tim’s cock. It was a good two hours until midnight, and Armie had to admit he loved the thought of watching Tim perform up there, knowing how much he wanted Armie, wondering how Herculean the effort to stay flaccid would be. “Can you be a good boy for me?”

“Oh, fuck,” Tim choked, hips jerking.

Armie smirked. “Can I take that as a yes?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Armie laid a light smack on Tim’s ass and strode for the door. “See you at twelve-o-five.”


	2. Chapter 2

Armie had to admit that Tim looked quite out of place at the valet stand. The party hadn’t officially ended. It wouldn’t for at least another hour. There was still ample food and wine, and a few of the more extravagant items had yet to go on auction. But that didn’t stop a small crowd from gathering at the valet in their tuxes and ball gowns.

And then there was Tim, standing off to the side, leaning on a bit of iron fence work, almost in the shrubbery, avoiding eye contact with everyone who walked by. He was wearing the big sweater and a pair of slim-cut jeans with ratty black Converse sneakers, his hair damp with sweat, and he kept combing his fingers through it and shaking it out.

Armie slid up to Tim’s side, shoulder to shoulder, speaking right in Tim’s ear. “I appreciate the effort to look nice for me, but I’m not sure you can improve upon perfection.”

Tim let out a whimper that he tried to disguise as a chuckle, and then, with a steadying breath, he leaned back enough to murmur into Armie’s ear, “I appreciate the pick up line, but I already agreed to go home with you.”

“True.” Armie turned his body towards Tim’s, blocking the view to the valet stand. “How about a little peek first?”

Tim’s eyes went wide. “Here?”

“Yeah.” Armie glanced over his shoulder. “Nobody’s looking. Just a tiny glimpse.”

Tim’s hand drifted towards his fly, but he still looked unsure. “What do I get in return?”

Armie grabbed Tim’s closest hand and guided it to his crotch, curling Tim’s palm over his girth.

Tim glanced over Armie’s shoulder, worrying the corner of his mouth even as his fingers found and followed the outline of Armie’s dick, gasping as it pulsed in his hand.

Tim’s gaze dropped to his own hand, his tongue making the slow journey across his slack mouth. “Don’t I get this anyway?”

Armie brushed his hand down Tim’s upper arm. “Can you think of a better way to pass the time while we wait for my car?”

Though he still chewed on his lower lip, Tim’s free hand drifted to the button at his waist, his gaze never leaving Armie’s face. Armie’s gaze, however, dropped to where the action was, and he helped out by lifting the front of the sweater. He kept it close to Tim’s body, so as to not impede the view, hooking his thumb under the hem and sliding his palm up over Tim’s thigh, his hip, his stomach.

Tim’s breath shuddered as he eased the zipper down, just halfway, and pulled aside the fabric just enough to give Armie a glimpse of the black lace beneath.

Armie peered at Tim’s face. The pink cheeks. The dark eyes. The red, swollen lips. The slack jaw. The wrinkled brow. He might be worried about being caught, but he still had a firm grip on Armie’s cock.

“More,” Armie rasped, and with a harsh exhale, Tim lowered the tab of his zipper the rest of the way.

God. Armie wished he could take a picture, but it would have required taking his hand off Tim’s body. Plus, it probably wouldn’t come out. So instead, he stared at the place where dark silk met pale skin, where the head of Tim’s cock pushed the waistband away from his skin, not enough for it to peek out the top, but enough to form a gap.

He crowded close, dropping the hand closest to the shrub to Tim’s groin and growling in his ear, “You’re fucking beautiful, you know that?”

“Fuck,” Tim muttered, dropping his forehead to Armie’s chest. “Someone’s going to see.”

“So what?”

“So it’s embarrassing.”

Armie smirked. “So do you want me to stop?”

Tim shook his head.

“Mister Hammer?” called the valet.

Armie spun around, putting himself between Tim and the valet stand. Just one of the advantages of being a giant. “Yes?”

The valet looked a little confused. “Your car, sir.”

“Ah.” Armie waited until he heard a whispered _OK_ behind him. He grabbed Tim’s hand and led him to the passenger side, where the valet scrambled to open the door.

As Tim slid in, refusing to look at anyone, cheeks blazing, Armie tipped the valet and trotted to the driver’s side.

“Ready?” he asked as he fastened his seatbelt.

Tim nodded silently.

Armie paused, giving Tim a disappointed glance. “I don’t think so.”

Tim tensed in his seat, grabbing the edges. “What? Why?”

“Seatbelt.”

“Oh.” Tim sighed, fastening the belt. “Not cool.”

Armie chuckled, put the car in gear, and drove off. They rode in silence until they reached the freeway, Tim fidgeting with hems of his sleeves, balling them up in his fist, then pushing them back. Sliding his hands into the opposite sleeves. Rolling and unrolling the hems against his palms.

Armie’s heart sank at the long line of brake lights ahead. “Ah, fuck.” He stopped the car. “Looks like it’ll be a while.”

Tim flinched, bounced his knees. “Okay.”

“Nervous?”

“No. Well…” Tim scrub at the back of his head, mouth twisting as he stared out the windshield. “Not exactly.”

“You can change your mind if you want.”

“No!”

Armie smirked at the rash reply.

Tim rubbed his palms against his jeans. “I… don’t normally do this.”

“I’m not judging you.”

“Oh, no.” Tim shook his head, knocking damp curls loose from each other. “I didn’t think you were.”

Armie hummed his understanding. They lapsed back into silence, though Tim’s fidgeting only grew more pronounced.

Cupping his knees, palms sliding to his shins, Tim blurted, “I should tell you something.”

Armie skated his fingertip down the side of Tim’s neck. “Go on.”

“I’ve been thinking about this for a long time.”

Armie waited for more, but Tim just sat there, staring at him. “Well? Go ahead.”

Tim’s brow furrowed for just a moment before clearing. “I don’t mean that as a preamble. I’ve been thinking about _this_ a long time. You.”

“How--” Armie wracked his brain. Had they met before? “Listen. If we’ve met before, I apologize. I wouldn’t think it possible to forget you.”

Tim propped his cheek on the heel of his hand, a sweet little smile on his face. “We haven’t really. Remember? I told you I bartend at Daniel.”

“Oh.” Armie slid his hand up Tim’s shoulder to his neck, cupping his hand around the nape. “I must have been distracted.”

Tim bit on his lip to suppress a grin, though Armie wished he hadn’t. “Must have been.”

A horn honking made them both jump, and Armie eased the car forward the several yards to the car in front of them. Once stopped, he reached over, pressing his palm down the length of Tim’s sweater, urging him back against the seat, and gathering the hem in his fist.

With the hem out of the way he slid his hand across Tim’s bare stomach and tucked his fingertips into the waistband of Tim’s jeans. “Why don’t you tell me about it? What am I like in these fantasies?”

Tim shook his head. “The real thing is better.”

Armie flicked open the button on Tim’s jeans--why did he even bother re-buttoning them in the first place?--and tugged the top side away to open the zipper. “Humor me. Who knows how long we’ll be stuck here?”

Tim pressed his hands to the car ceiling, harsh breath rushing from his nostrils. “It’s silly.”

Armie cupped Tim’s cock, already hard as steel. “I doubt that’s true.”

Tim’s hips slid forward on his seat. He grunted. “I spill a drink on your lap, and we go to the bathroom to clean it up.”

Armie had to release Tim, much to his chagrin, as the traffic started moving again. Slowly, but surely. “I like the start. Keep going.”

Tim replaced Armie’s hand with his own. “I get on my knees and start cleaning it with a rag, but you tell me to use my mouth.”

 _Oh_. That was better than Armie expected. “Get yourself out. Let me see.”

Tim did as asked, the panties bunched at the base of his cock, and slowly stroked himself between his thumb and first two fingers. It was lovely. Flushed dark, circumcised, with a slight upward curve. Armie just wished he could get a better look than the lights of the dash--and the fact that he was driving--allowed.

“So you’re cleaning my pants with your mouth.”

“Mm hm.” Tim wrapped his thumb and forefinger around the base of his cock. Tight. _Close already?_ “And you’re just standing there, waiting, but I can feel you getting hard, so I start trying to get you off through the pants.”

 _Fuck, yeah._ “What’s your refractory period like?”

“What?”

“If it’s short, I want you to come in the car.”

“What?” It sounded even more breathless and alarmed than the first time.

Armie reached across and grab Tim’s cock, stroking it fast and hard, delighting in the violent jerk of Tim’s body, for just a moment before pulling away. “I want you to come while you tell me every sordid detail of this fantasy of yours. Is it the only one?”

Tim shook his head, hips undulating as he took over for Armie’s hand. “No.”

A favorite, then. Even better. “Keep going.”

Armie startled at a loud click, but it was just Tim reclining the chair. “After a while, you tell me to stop, and I’m worried that you’re mad. I think you’re going to get me fired, but you pull out your cock and feed it to me.”

“How big am I in this fantasy?”

Tim grunted. “Huge.”

If Armie kept interrupting, Tim might finish before the story did. “Go on.”

“Fuck.” Tim shivered against his hand, whining as he struggled to slow down the pace, last until the end of the story. “You grab my hair and fuck my face, and you tell me what a slut I am and that I have the perfect mouth for sucking cock.”

Armie clenched his fists on the steering wheel. His cock pulsed in his pants. He couldn’t wait to get Tim home and fuck him for hours.

“And then you pull me up and bend me over the sink, and you pull my pants down to my knees and eat me out, and you pause a few times to smack my ass and you tell me how much you wanna fuck me and then you get up and spit on your-- Shit. Fuck.”

Tim’s hand flew over his cock, his hips high in the air, his gaze rapt on his own groin. _Fuck, yes_.

“Finish,” Armie ordered.

“You spit on your dick and fuck me,” Tim blurted, the words blending together and ending on a moan as he came, spurting onto his own stomach, his breath rushing in and out through his teeth as he worked himself through it. Finally, his ass settled to his seat. He ran a hand through his hair, expression dazed. “Shit.”

Armie smiled as he steered the car onto the exit ramp. The timing couldn’t be much better.

And as he waited for the light to turn green to turn onto the surface road near his home, he used his index finger to swipe a bit of come off Tim’s stomach and pushed it past his lips.

Tim sucked it in to the knuckle, his tongue forming a tight, wriggling tunnel. He even grabbed Armie’s wrist to keep him from pulling away. He had to turn into his driveway with only one hand free.

Finally, with the car in park, Armie pulled his finger from Tim’s mouth, replacing it with his tongue. He stroked it over Tim’s, deep and dirty, the hand that was in Tim’s mouth wrapped around his neck so Armie could feel every discrete sound. And Tim made lovely ones.

He pulled away, swiping a finger over Tim’s lower lip as he popped open his own car door. “Fantasy Armie was right. You do have the perfect mouth for sucking cock.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and many thanks once again to shamelessmash for betaing the porn torrent of the past few days.


	3. Chapter 3

By the time Armie walked around the front of the car and opened the door for Tim, Tim was still buckled in, cock halfway out, rubbing his right palm over the cleaner portions of his stomach.

Armie propped his elbow on the top of the car and leaned down. “You gonna keep me waiting all night?”

“Sorry.” Tim wiped his hand one more time and then held it up for Armie to see. It was mostly clean, but a thin sheen of come still clung to the crook between his index finger and thumb. “I didn’t want to make a mess.”

With a not-entirely-serious huff, Armie reached across and unbuckled Tim’s seatbelt. “There. Come on.”

Tim rearranged the panties and moved to zip up his jeans.

“Why are you bothering with that? Let’s go.”

“Oh.” Tim slung his legs out of the car and stood. He must have expected Armie to step back to make room because he startled at their proximity, nearly nose to nose.

Armie grinned. “Hi.”

Tim’s tongue tucked his bottom lip into his mouth as he tugged at the hip of his jeans to keep them up. “Hi.”

God, that tongue was a menace, and now that Armie knew what it could do, he couldn’t resist. He yanked Tim to him with a forearm to the back, guiding him to lean against the rear passenger door as he closed the front one. He pressed his body full length against Tim’s, laying his hands flat on the top of the car as he dove in to devour Tim’s mouth.

 _So fucking gorgeous_. He couldn’t understand how he’d never noticed Tim at the restaurant, that someone that beautiful could be right under his nose, lusting after him, concocting elaborate filthy fantasies about him, and he had no idea. He could just imagine himself sitting there at a lunch meeting with the weight of Tim’s unbeknownst stare enveloping his body. Fucking hot.

Armie pressed his hips to Tim’s as he broke the kiss, making absolutely certain that Tim could feel the full impact of Armie’s hard on. He rumbled in Tim’s ear, “When’s your next bar shift?”

Tim’s hands clung to Armie’s waist under the tux jacket. “Monday lunch.”

“I’ll be there.” He bit the skin behind Tim’s ear. “And I’m going to make damn sure you’ll still be able to feel me.”

Tim’s fists clenched around Armie’s shirt, pulling the fabric taut, putting enough strain on the buttons that Armie could hear them creak. His cock twitched against Armie’s thigh. Impressive.

Armie smirked with a single-shoulder shrug. “Assuming you’re any good in bed.”

Tim’s jaw dropped on an indignant squeak, and Armie grabbed his hand, dragging him into the house. He didn’t drop it until they made it through the entryway, up the stairs, and into Armie’s personal sitting room and office. Once there, he left Tim at the door to drop his keys and wallet on his desk, whip off his bow tie, and hang his jacket over the back of his desk chair. As he turned to loosen his collar and cuffs, he found Tim still standing in the doorway, fidgeting, one hand on his hip holding up his jeans.

“All right?” Armie asked.

Tim nodded, but he didn’t move.

Armie sat on the couch, kitty-corner to the desk halfway between it and Tim, ran his fingertips over the supple antique leather. “Why don’t you take off your pants and stay a while?”

Tim chuckled, kicked off his shoes, and dropped trou.

Armie patted his own lap. “Have a seat.”

This seemed to put Tim more at ease because he strode over without preamble and threw a leg over Armie’s. With his hands in Armie’s hair, he settled his knees on either side of Armie’s hips before slowly sinking down. Armie’s hands came to rest on Tim’s thighs, sliding up and down. Skin like silk. Muscles like iron.

Tim dove to Armie’s neck, breathing deep as his ass slid up Armie’s thighs. “You smell so good.”

Goosebumps skated over Armie’s scalp and neck, and he dropped his head back to let Tim smell and nuzzle to his heart’s content. His body was like a noodle, in a constant writhing motion, rubbing his cock and ass against Armie’s erection, breathing little moans into Armie’s ear. It felt amazing washing over Armie, but if Tim didn’t slow down, he was going to come too soon. Again.

Though there was something thrilling about the knowledge that Tim wanted him _that_ much, he wrapped his palms over Tim’s hips to still him. “Is there still come on your stomach?”

Tim tucked his chin to his chest, pulling up the hem of his sweater. “I don’t know. It may have gotten absorbed.”

Armie took over, shoving the sweater up to Tim’s armpits, using them to pull Tim to his knees as Armie slid down to get a better look. There was no glisten left to his skin, to Armie’s disappointment, but he still felt the undeniable pull to taste Tim’s skin there. So he dove in, licking a long, rough stripe up Tim’s stomach before turning it into an open-mouthed kiss at the center of his breast bone.

“Salty,” Armie rasped, and then did it again, a little to one side. He couldn’t be sure whether it was just sweat or not, but he liked to think it wasn’t. He liked to think he was cleaning every last bit of come from Tim’s stomach and chest. Demanding licks and kisses that left Tim trembling in Armie’s tight grip. That left Armie’s cock hard as a rock.

He grabbed both cheeks of Tim’s ass and squeezed, pressing him to Armie’s groin, pulling himself up. In the meantime, Tim’s sweater fell onto Armie’s crown, but it was quickly whisked away, leaving Tim nearly naked with Armie still mostly dressed. _Fucking fantastic_.

Armie grabbed Tim’s nape, his other hand still squeezed tight over a buttock, and yanked him into a kiss. He pulled Tim down as he pushed up, grinding their groins together as his tongue mimicked what he was going to do to Tim’s ass later. As his teeth scraped over Tim’s mouth. Armie could have devoured him. He could have swallowed Tim whole. Either way, he need his teeth in Tim’s skin.

He broke the kiss only to bite into Tim’s ear, eliciting a beautiful broken gasp, and growl into it, “Do you feel what you fucking do to me?”

Tim whimpered his assent, thrusting even harder against him than Armie could guide with his hands.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard, you’ll feel it in your throat.”

“Oh fuck,” Tim blurted. His head dropped to Armie’s shoulder, teeth digging into Armie’s collar and the skin underneath.

“Yeah.” Armie slapped both hands to Tim’s ass again, spreading the cheeks, rubbing himself between them, lace and wool and cotton making a rough barrier, but he knew Tim could feel every throbbing inch. “You like it rough, don’t you, baby.”

“Yeah,” Tim huffed. His mouth latched to Armie’s throat, his jaw, his ear, every available bit of skin Armie would allow. “Fuck me up.”

Armie gave Tim’s ass one last slap and squeeze before lifting him up and off. “All fours.”

Tim gaped from his akimbo position on the couch. “Here?”

Armie lifted Tim’s hips, who easily fell into position with his knees on the center cushion and forearms braced on the arm. _Good boy._ “Wait there.”

Armie stepped away to fetch lube from the bedroom, but God, Tim’s ass in that black lace, the gluteal fold peeking out the bottom, barely visible with his legs bent like that.

Armie swooped back in, pulling down the back of them without preamble, and pressing Tim’s cheeks apart, he went for the gold. There were no teasing kitten licks or light kisses to the perineum to lead them in. Armie opened his mouth wide and used the strongest part of his tongue to draw circles over and around Tim’s hole. He licked in stripes. He sucked. He pressed the tip against Tim’s sphincter and felt it flutter. He felt his own saliva covering his chin, soaking into the waistband of Tim’s costume, but he didn’t care. If anything, it made the whole experience hotter. As did Tim’s vocal performance. He didn’t know before that it was possible to be both a bass and a soprano.

He dragged his stubble between Tim’s cheeks before pulling back to check his handiwork, pressing the pad of his thumb to Tim’s perineum. “You have the prettiest pink asshole I’ve ever seen.”

“God, you have a filthy mouth.”

Armie pressed the flat of his tongue to Tim’s hole and drew one slow circle. “I do now.”

The back of Tim’s neck flushed bright red, and although Armie couldn’t see, he was sure Tim’s cheeks were just as red as he pressed his forehead to the arm of the couch and laughed, an uncontrollable hiccupy thing that was endearing as hell.

Armie kissed the swell of one buttock. “Wait right there.”

He rushed next door to the bedroom, fetched the lube, and rushed back. He arrived to find Tim kneeling, sitting on his heels. He’d moved, yes, but he hadn’t pulled up the panties. Armie could tell by the way they pulled along his hips, the way the fabric was especially taut over Tim’s hard on.

Still, Armie tutted. “I believe I told you to wait where you were.”

Tim raised both eyebrows, his mouth in a crooked smirk, but without a word, he walked his hands forward until they touched the arm of the couch. There he waited until Armie laid his palm between Tim’s shoulder blades and pressed.

“Oh, that’s good.” Armie smoothed his palm down Tim’s spine to his sacrum as Tim settled his head on his own forearms. He dropped the lube between Tim’s legs, positioned himself behind. He eased both hands down Tim’s hips, underneath his gluts, lifting them and watching them fall. Barely any jiggle. He wasn’t surprised. Tim was all lean muscle covered in smooth skin and dark, silken hair.

And, for tonight at least, he was all Armie’s.

Who pressed Tim’s cheeks apart again, just to get a peek at the promised land, the sparse dark fur that grew thicker towards the base of his cock. Or so Armie surmised. He hadn’t seen the entire gradient in all its glory, but that could wait.

He wanted another taste first.

He licked from perineum to sacrum. Delicious. Salt and sex. The promise of a tight squeeze and fluttering muscles. Of a bottom who wasn’t afraid to make some noise.

He had to have him now.

Armie scrambled to undo his belt and shove his pants and underwear down to his knees. He snatched up the lube, dribbled it down Tim’s cleft, spread it with his fingers. And then he pushed two in.

Tim’s gluts clenched. “Ah!”

Armie twisted his fingers and slid forward until he could find Tim’s prostate.

Tim’s feet leapt from the couch as he cried out, his back hunching. He writhed at the end of Armie’s fingers as if torn between pulling away and pushing back. As if caught at the end of a live wire.

As goosebumps freckled the flesh of Tim’s ass and chased up his spine, Armie asked, “Sensitive?”

Tim relaxed against Armie’s hand, letting out a long breath as he laid his cheek on his forearms and nodded. “But good.”

“Good.” Armie watched his fingers slide in and out, crooked them against Tim’s prostate, rubbed in rough circles. Fuck, that looked good. Sounded good, and not just Tim’s voice. The squelch of the lube. The creak of the sofa. “Are you ready for me?”

Tim shook his head. “I don’t know.”

Armie eased his fingers out to slick up his cock. “Let’s find out.”

He pressed his slippery glans to Tim’s hole, pushing just a bit before drawing back. He’d been eager to get going, slam into that perfect pink hole, but now that he was here, he wanted to savor it. He eased the head up and down Tim’s cleft a few times before drawing circles with his slit, teasing them both. He wondered who would break first.

He thought it might be Tim, with the way he was rocking his hips, with his loud, panting breaths, but in the end it was Armie, steadying his cock in his fist, pushing past the first sphincter before falling forward, fists on the arm of the couch on either side of Tim’s head. He held himself there, resisting the urge to push forward, savoring the echo in his ears of Tim’s broken moan the moment Armie broke through.

“Ok?” Armie asked.

“Mm hm.” Tim shifted his hips in tiny circles. “Just go slow a minute.”

Oh, Armie could go slow. He could go slow until Tim lost his mind, begging, pleading to have it harder, faster. So, he pressed forward at an excruciating pace, curling his body over Tim’s to kiss the back of his neck. To feel the hairs at Tim’s nape tickle his cheek. To feel the goosebumps rise under his tongue. To taste the salt of his skin here, too. God, every inch of Tim’s skin tasted salty. Armie thought he’d be disappointed if he ever got to a freshly showered Tim. He liked this saltlick version too much.

Finally, his groin settled fully against Tim’s ass, his balls nestled behind Tim’s. After pulling the tails of his shirt out of the way, he rocked his hips side to side, Tim’s hips moving with him. “That’s all of it.”

Tim hunched and arched his back, testing the angles. “Fuck.”

Armie clenched his buttocks, not a thrust so much as a press, pushing skin that was already touching just a little bit closer, slotting his thighs more fully with Tim’s. The difference in their size was almost perfect; he could drape nearly all of himself over Tim in this position, skin to skin from knee to shoulder, his lips exploring Tim’s neck.

Without pulling out, without thrusting at all, Armie moved on to explore Tim’s shoulders with his mouth. His upper arms. His scapulae. His underarms, where he breathed deep. “You smell so good, baby.”

Tim scoffed, and Armie thrust the miniscule distance he could because he felt the scoff around his cock. “I’ve been sweating like a pig all night.”

Armie hum-growled, laying a smacking kiss just below the hair of Tim’s underarms, finally rocking them together with some rhythm. “I know.”

A shiver ran down Tim’s body. Good.

“How’s that feel, baby?” Armie pulled himself up to a kneel, one hand following the line of Tim’s spine as the other wrapped around his shoulder. He wrapped the first hand over Tim’s hip and picked up the pace.

Tim grunted with each thrust, his answering, “Good,” almost indistinguishable from them.

Armie hummed, skimming his hand over the swell of Tim’s ass and giving it a smack before grabbing his hip again. “You take it so good.”

“Oh fuck.” Tim hunched his back, his crown pressed to the sofa arm. Armie thought he was just changing the angle to hit his prostate better, but then Tim grunted, “Keep talking.”

“Oh.” Armie smirked. “You like that do you?”

He pressed Tim’s cheeks apart, watching himself slide in and out. In and out.

“Fuck yeah,” he gruffed, smacking Tim’s ass again, relishing the sharp sound. “You take it like you love it. You love a big cock, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Tim huffed. He slapped his hips against Armie’s.

“You look good taking it. Like you were made for it.” He fell forward to press his chest to Tim’s back, wrap his arms over Tim’s middle, hold him still for the plundering. “A mouth made for sucking and an ass made for fucking.”

Tim’s toes curled up off the sofa cushion, his heels pushing against the backs of Armie’s thighs, his breath rushing in and out without making any extra noise. Like he was afraid of missing anything Armie had to say.

Armie pressed his mouth to Tim’s ear. “I’m gonna fill you with my come, and when the sun comes up, I’m gonna fuck you again. I’m gonna fuck you with my own come coating my dick. I’m gonna fuck you so good, you’ll feel it for days. Would you like that?”

“Fuck.”

Armie slowed to a leisurely rock, like a chair on a front porch, though he shivered with the effort, skimming his finger behind Tim’s ear. “That doesn’t sound like an answer.”

Tim trembled, struggling to push his hips back though Armie held him tight. He groaned. “Please.”

Armie tipped back his hips, holding himself just barely inside Tim. “You can do better than that.”

Tim growled, his heels digging into Armie’s thighs. “Fuck me hard.” At Armie’s lack of response, he added, “Please.”

Armie yanked them both upright, slipping out in the process, and Tim whined. He thrust his hips back again and again like he thought he could eventually line them up perfectly just through blind luck, and Armie had to laugh. He grabbed both of Tim’s hips to still him and then moved one to his cock to steady it.

“Spread your cheeks,” Armie said. Tim complied, and his own fingers digging into his cheeks to keep them apart was a sight to behold.

He ran the head of his cock down Tim’s cleft before drawing a circle over his hole. “How hard do you want it?”

Tim peered over his shoulder. “How hard can you give it?”

With a growl, Armie showed him, slamming home again and again, and by the sounds Tim made, Armie was hitting his prostate with every thrust. Before long, his ass and thighs and lungs were screaming from the exertion, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop.

“God, you take it good,” Armie huffed, leaning back enough to watch their bodies slap together.

Tim’s only response was grunting, several of them, in perfect time with Armie’s thrusts.

Then, without warning Tim’s arm flew out, smacking the back of Armie’s neck and jerking him forward, to where Tim’s mouth blindly sought his out. They couldn’t kiss like that, not successfully. Their noses and chins and teeth bumped each other, so Armie slowed the pace. He wrapped a hand over Tim’s throat, fingers at the hinge of the jaw to help them find the right angle as Tim’s fingers tangled in his hair. Tugged a little.

Armie’s fingers pushed against the column of Tim’s throat, and Tim let go of his hair with a gasp.

Armie’s hand skimmed down Tim’s neck, over his chest, to his waist. “Was that too much?”

Tim shook his head, seeking Armie’s mouth with his own, and Armie moaned into it, chasing his own voice with his tongue, trying to capture it between his teeth. Tim was just as good at kissing as he was at sucking fingers, maybe better, his tongue nimble and strong, finding the perfect balance between chasing and being chased. He could probably come from the tight squeeze around his cock and the tongue in his mouth. They wouldn’t have to move at all.

Instead, Armie grabbed Tim’s jaw and broke the kiss. “You wanna come, baby?”

“Yes,” Tim gasped, chasing Armie’s mouth.

But Armie wouldn’t let him have it. Instead, he propped his chin on Tim’s shoulder, hooked his thumbs into the waistband of the lace panties, and pulled down the front of them, letting Tim’s cock spring free. Finally, a clear look at that gorgeous cock.

“Before you leave,” Armie murmured, tucking his nose behind Tim’s ear as he wrapped his palm around Tim’s cock, “I’m gonna suck you and finger you until you’re close, and then I’ll fuck you until you come untouched.”

Tim’s head dropped back on Armie’s shoulder with a long, loud moan, and they fucked with abandon. Armie’s mouth latched on Tim’s shoulder. His hand flew over Tim’s cock, which leaked precome like a broken faucet. Tim’s hands scrambled for purchase on Armie’s body, any place they could reach, though they didn’t settle until one gripped Armie’s nape and the other yanked at his hips.

He could feel both their orgasms coming, the spring coiling in his groin, Tim’s muscles tightening around his cock, Tim’s cock growing harder, hotter, the pitch and volume of his voice climbing to the sky.

Armie gritted his teeth, holding off his own orgasm by sheer force of will until he felt Tim pulse around him, and even though he’d had yet to feel come spilling over his fingers, no force could have stopped him from coming.

He growled it out, wrapping his free arm around Tim’s waist, keeping him as close as possible as he came deep inside. And as he finally tumbled back to earth, he felt the sticky remains of Tim’s orgasm on his fingers. Oh, thank God because Armie wasn’t sure he had the wherewithal in that moment to take care of Tim if he hadn’t already come.

He wrapped both arms around Tim’s waist, nuzzling into his nape, humming his satisfaction. “How does reality compare?”

Tim scrubbed both his hands through Armie’s hair. “Fucking awesome.”

Armie smirked against Tim’s neck. “I don’t know. It’s like apples and oranges. Don’t you think we need a more direct comparison?”

“Fuck. Me.”

Armie chuckled. “That’s the plan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks for reading, and even more thanks to my beta, shamelessmash! I hope you've enjoyed it so far!

**Author's Note:**

> I am aware that I'm being a big tease right now, but I am also working on four projects, so I can make no guarantees on when the next scene will come (if you'll pardon the pun).


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